Running on Empty
by Broken Boys
Summary: Dean's hungry.  In fact, he's starving.  However, Hell is haunting him to the point he can no longer enjoy something as simple  and necessary  as eating.


Dean's sitting halfway down the steps on Bobby's porch. He can hear muted voices through the screen door, and he instinctively knows Sam and Bobby are talking about him. He can't blame them for being afraid of what's happening to him. He's afraid for himself. But there's nothing he can do about it.

Dean hears the heavy clump of solid work boots headed his way, and he knows his moment of quiet is about to be interrupted.

He does his best not to flinch as the screen door bangs shut. He peeks up before quickly moving his eyes back to the ground as something like relief floods through him when he sees that it's Bobby moving to sit on the step beside him.

"You on a liquid diet now, boy?" Bobby asks, approaching the sensitive subject in the only way he knows how and that's to simply be as direct as possible.

Dean doesn't say anything and takes a swig from the bottle in his slightly shaking hand. They're four other empty ones beside him on the step keeping him company. They do their job of filling his stomach, but they're never truly effective at removing the sharp edge of hunger that's constantly digging into him. He knows he needs to eat, but the thought of it makes him sick.

Dean takes another shaky sip from the bottle, and Bobby can't help but notice the slight tremor and the way Dean's struggling to hide it.

"I'll replace these, Bobby," Dean says in a rough, yet barely audible voice.

"Don't sweat it, kid." Bobby says as he grabs and opens the last one for himself to finish off the six pack.

Bobby changes tactics. This has nothing to do with the beer needing to be replaced and everything to do with Dean essentially starving himself.

"There's chili on the stove if you want some. I'm pretty sure that brother of yours would be willing to go get you something else if you're not in the mood for that."

Dean grimaces and hides it behind finishing off his drink. He tries to force himself not to think of all the things that chili reminds him of as his mind involuntarily provides him with images of walls and floors splattered with dark blood and gore. Imagines of his dark blood and bits of pieces of his torn insides flash in his mind's eye as a cold chill races up his spine. He shivers hard, and he knows Bobby sees it. Dean knows he has to get away from this conversation. However, the alcohol has made his movements a little slow, so when he moves to stand, Bobby is easily able to grab his arm to hold him in place.

"Damn, boy. That arm of yours is getting kinda scrawny, don't you think?" Bobby says as he removes his hand from the boy's bicep.

"Hey, watch the merchandise," Dean says as his attempt at being funny fails.

"You can't keep going on like this. You're going to have to start eating even if you don't want to. You're going to end up getting really sick really soon if you keep denying yourself."

"You drew the short straw this time, didn't you, Bobby?" Dean asks as anger start to rise inside of him to war with the hunger.

"It has nothing to do with straws, son. We're both just trying to do the right thing here. Come inside and eat some chili with us."

Dean's stomach rolls loudly and painfully at the mention of food, and he does his best to hide the wince. His free hand moves to cover his mouth, but he stops himself before the action is complete.

Bobby sighs.

"Look, Sam told me that you ain't been eating since you got back. He's worried. Damnit, I'm worried."

"Not hungry, Bobby." Dean says as he feels the bile starting to rise in the back of his throat. This conversation is too much, and his body is starting to rebel.

"Not hungry, you say. Well I beg to differ seeing as I can hear your gut screaming for food from where I'm sitting."

Bobby tries to find Dean's gaze but the boy is stubborn, eyes locked on the ground.

Bobby hesitates slightly with his next words, but he knows he has to get them out. Dean's been out of hell for almost a month and the only thing that either he or Sam have seen the other man consume is large amounts of caffiene and booze and the occasion bite of toast or something equally unsubstantial. Both of them have witnessed the toll the lack of eating has taken on Dean's body, and both of them have attempted to discuss the issue with Dean only to be met with stony silence or Dean getting up to leave the room.

So, yes, Bobby hesitates, but he has to say this for Dean's sake.

"Dean, boy…Sam says they made you eat...things...when you were in H-"

Dean is up like a shot.

He takes two halting steps to the bottom of the porch, then bends at the waist as he violently loses his liquid diet all over the gravel in Bobby's driveway.

Bobby quickly makes it to his side and is glad he does so when Dean gets lightheaded causing his knees to give as he almost sinks down into his own pile of sick.

Bobby finds himself at a loss for words as he waits for Dean's legs to once again become steady. It doesn't take long, and he soon finds himself using a steadying hand underneath one of Dean's elbows to guide him back up the steps and into the house while at the same time making a few quick kicks at the dirt to cover the small puddle of mostly watery vomit.

It's when they are both mostly all the way up the steps of the porch when Dean stops, causing Bobby who's at his side to have to do so as well.

"I don't want to go in yet." Dean says. "I'm okay. Can we just stay here for a bit, please?" And it's the 'please' that scares Bobby more than anything.

"Sure, kid. Whatever you want." Bobby says as he moves to sit back down on the step, while doing his best not to stare and failing miserably as he watches Dean sit back down carefully and slowly.

Both of them end up just sitting there for a few minutes; Bobby staring out into the salvage yard as Dean lowers his head almost to his knees while keeping his arms tightly wrapped around his aching middle.

It becomes so quite between them as the minutes pass that Bobby's almost startled when he hears Dean starting to speak from his bent position, and he misses the first few words the other man says. He quickly tunes in though, but then he feels instantly guilty when he wishes he couldn't hear any of the words coming out of Dean's mouth.

"…Sam told you about that, did he. It's true…yeah, it's true." Dean says as he finally moves to sit in a more upright position while leaving his arms wrapped around himself.

Bobby knows not to interrupt what Dean needs to get out, so he lets the other man speak even though everything in him is screaming _'stop this 'cause it's too much for anyone.'_

"Hell is…they make you – they take the things that you loved before and turn them against you." Dean forces out through the hot tears that have started to scorch their way down his face.

"You know me, Bobby. I've always loved my food –" Dean stops after the word leaves his mouth and this time he does cover his mouth for a brief moment with one of his hands before moving it away again.

"They made me eat things, and I don't know – but…almost all of it…there's something here that reminds me of almost all of it." Dean says as he shivers hard and folds back over himself as he presses the palm of his hand deep into his stomach as it emits a particularly loud and sharply painful rumble.

"God, Bobby," Dean says as he chokes on a sob, "I hate this feeling, this hunger. I hate it…but what can I do?" Dean says and Bobby knows that this is where he needs to offer the support Dean so desperately needs. Bobby places his hand on Dean's back and it feels like a sock to the gut when he feels the knobs of spine and the indentations between bones in Dean's back.

Dean feels the way Bobby goes still after touching him, and he knows instantly what Bobby is thinking.

"It's not as bad as it seems," Dean says.

"No, it's not. I think it's probably worse," Bobby says as he continues to rub Dean's back.

"Maybe. Maybe." Dean says as they both resume their silence; one giving comfort and the other doing his best to accept it.

_"We'll fix this, boy,"_ Bobby thinks to himself at the same time that Dean thinks, _"Help me, please."_

The End.


End file.
